


Far Too Close; Much Too Far

by HarricIsLife



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Love, Love Unrealized, M/M, Mutually Unrequited, No Dialogue, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Cedric, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14067966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarricIsLife/pseuds/HarricIsLife
Summary: Cedric would like to be close to him, but when they are, he feels faraway. He wishes to bring him joy, but when he does, sorrow still lingers, oh and the hurt, and because this is Harry of course the guilt, a lot of it.He can't change anything, but he can wish and he can hope; and maybe fate will have some mercy.





	Far Too Close; Much Too Far

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatsarockfact55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsarockfact55/gifts).



> I really wanted to write a Cedric/Harry fic today (9th March), but no ideas were coming, and I sat in front of the blank "Post New Work" page for over 20 minutes, and then the title birthed itself, and I have no idea how that happens, birthing oneself, someone better explore that. Anyway, it took five minutes of staring at the title to birth the summary, which I'm really fond of, and who knew you could reproduce just by staring, and I'm exploring that, birth by stares, in some other fic, some other day, and of course I became a grandfather, (wait what?), when the summary birthed the fic, very less staring involved, and some actual thought.
> 
> Sorry for the silly note, I really hate myself for this fic, I love it though.
> 
> [Edit: Most of this (including the notes) was written on 9th March 2016, just added (more than) a few lines to wrap up the fic.]

Cedric had watched Harry from the moment the younger boy's name was called for sorting. Watched him swallow a snitch, and capture it under five minutes in front of him. Watched him getting persecuted for losing too many house points, and being hailed for gaining too many after. Watched him dance in the air, and shuffle on the ground. Watched him being feared of for speaking a language rarely spoken and being in fear of the prospect, feeling guilty for the thoughts when it all turned out to be false. Watched him at his house table trying to hide in a rowdy crowd, in clothes too big for his size with two friends bickering beside him at all times, and eating treacle tarts as if his life depends on them, with the gossip of his relatives going around, maybe it did. Watched him in despair and shock as he fell off the broom, and lying peacefully besides it broken, in the infirmary. Watched him time and again back on his feet, too fast for his liking, when he should have rested. Watched him cast a patronus, oh so young, and be the happiest he had seen with a silver cup in hand sometime after.

Cedric watched Harry like the many mesmerized, but always from afar, save that one time. Watched with excitement, with fear, with respect, and he didn't realize it then, but with longing too, and too many times to count. He then got to watch up close, more than once that year, but sometimes still from afar.

He watched with a smile hidden, on the hill top. With disbelief etched in his eyes, out the side chamber. With pity in the hallways amidst badges and taunts. With fondness when he wiped his wand. With gratitude, wonder and fear outside Charms, feeling loyalty to him getting its birth. Watched with trepidation inside the tent, hoping for a miracle so that they all can survive. Watched with awe, or more like  _heard_  this time, from within the tent whilst he healed. With amusement for his attraction, with jealousy for it too, and wanting for the same, and feeling oh so confused. With shyness when caught, with abandon when not, with confidence to ask, with apprehension to do so and choosing the easy, which was  _also_  the hard way instead. With admiration for the dress robes, with guilt for asking first, with hesitation to approach, with awkwardness giving the clue and with horror by the words he gave it with.

He tried to watch him less and less, now that he had Cho, because it wouldn't be fair to her, but sometimes he faltered and glanced, and sometimes when he did, he saw the looks, and sometimes the looks mirrored his confusion and want, and sometimes he caught her doing the same, but there was a tournament to win, glory to be had, a point to be proven, friends to celebrate with, and parents to make proud, so he didn't think of it much, but sometimes he did, and thought of the possibilities, but often he did not, and watched him less and less, and watched her more, and the more he watched, the more he liked.

He was not as obsessed with her as he was with him, but he was more attentive, and they were close, and getting closer still, and he wondered sometimes if it would have been the same with him if he had asked, but often he got distracted and didn't think of it much. She was more than a distraction to him, there was something deep brewing between them, but she distracted him with those thoughts as well. He got teased often by his friends for it and housemates did it too, and sometimes quips by schoolmates, admirers or not, outside of his house and in made him blush, but he didn't really mind, and he could tell that she didn't either, and the only person who did, well, he tried not to think about that.

She was his treasure, he was almost surprised, but it made sense and he was glad that she was, and then he watched him again with pride this time, because of course he showed fortitude and integrity when he himself could not. His grin was infectious after the lake, and she was beaming along with everyone during the celebrations. She caught him by surprise when she mentioned him, but of course she knew, she was smart. He was giddy with the proposed solution, which he thought was taboo, but he was still young, so they decided to wait.

Now they both watched shamelessly, but covertly still, because this was somehow wrong, but they  _felt_  it was  _right_ , so they carried on. Sometimes they longed to erase the confusion and want from him and give, but one or the other stopped because they  _needed_  to do this right. They distracted each other and let whatever there was between them brew a little more. They wanted to comfort him when they heard his scar had hurt, but they waited, and in hindsight maybe they shouldn't have.

She didn't want him to go in the maze that day, but he had the feeling of inevitability coursing through him, but he felt reluctant still, but his parents were there, and he felt like a cheat for reaching this far with help, but still there was the want, and a different one at that, to win, to prove, to be hailed, so he entered and faced the horrors it brought.

The most painful thing in there was not the magic, the creatures,  _or_  the curse, though it was a close second, but the realization that someone who he considered his friend, who he admired as an athlete, who he respected for his date, wanted to win  _so_  much, that he did the unforgivable and hurt him like hell, and that shattered him a little bit, even as he felt gratitude and shame for being rescued.

His rescuer was the same scrawny boy, who within this maze, saved him twice, once again by the gleaming cup soon after, and within this tournament helped him immensely by being  _fair_ , who had to face the same horrors as the ones students three years older than him faced, and he was the same boy who had suffered so much with his parents taken, and trials faced so young if everything said was to be believed, and he was chosen by the goblet though entered  _not_  by choice, he realized with much dawning horror and hatred for himself and for whoever did this to him and for everyone who judged and shunned him and of course he deserved the reward, because he performed better than them all, despite everything.

But then he himself was given the choice to take the reward, to take eternal glory, and he saw himself amidst the cheering crowd, his parents' faces beaming and proud, his friends, his professors, his head of house and even the headmaster there joining in, he saw her, a sharp contrast of blue in the surrounding yellow he envisioned and then him too, another sharp contrast of red and beaming at him, and just like that reality crashed and he saw him as he was now with a broken leg looking pale and gaunt, and he himself probably wasn't much different, and he refused.

But  _of course_  he was stubborn and refused as well, and  _of course_  he had to be stubborn in return, because  _fair_  was  _fair_ , but then there was a proposed solution, and he was giddy and he saw himself once again being hailed but  _with_  him this time and  _of course_  he agreed.

As he touched the cup, Cedric thought, together was better than apart, and somehow both Cho and Harry saw it as such, though in different ways.

Cedric watched Harry now in a graveyard with confusion for the first time, and with worry soon after, with protectiveness and courage intermingling together on its heel, and then two voices spoke, and there was a green light, and then he watched with shock, despair and horror, and then there was blankness.

And then there was light, and people he had never met, and a narrow tunnel appeared, and he was ushered through it with others soon to follow, and then he saw Harry, connected with his wand to the wand that was the tunnel, the wand that had killed him, and he saw Harry, and everything became crystal clear, and he told him to hold on, and he saw Harry, a look of determination on his face and holding on for dear life, quite literally he suppose, and he saw Harry, as he hissed words of hatred to the creature he would never have in his life, but it was because of this abomination that he had none left, and hissed them to him and felt free of the notions of the living, and he saw Harry, as his parents spoke to him for the first time, gasping his consent so not to break the hold too soon, and he saw Harry, like he had never seen him before, surrounded by spectators and surrounded by a light dome and surrounded by phoenix song, and he saw Harry, maintain the connection, not envying the hardship ahead for him, and asked him to take his body back, and in that moment he saw Harry as for the first time, and he saw Harry, with love in his eyes.

It was cruel, Cedric thought, of fate to make him realize he loved Harry,  _after_ he died.

He had felt the inevitable coming, just didn't know what it was, still didn't. Was it death? Was it love? Or the realization of it? He didn't know, but he felt it all the same, and he had achieved all the three, and now the longing to be near him was painful to the point of extreme, and he was surprised that he felt the pain at all, wasn't the point of death not to feel any pain? Apart from being dead, and leaving loved ones in despair that is.

The connection broke, Harry ran, Cedric's white form faded.

Cedric watched Harry with hope, weaving through the tombstones, like the true seeker he was. Watched him grab his body and summon the portkey. Watched him disappear with a sharp twinge to his being, never to see him again, until they would eventually meet after his death, which Cedric hoped was not anytime soon.

Watched  _Voldemort_  scream in rage, and how satisfying it was to think of the monster with his wretched name.

And watched Harry's parents, as formless as him, but with still a form, give him sad smiles.

And then he felt a tug to his being, and all of a sudden he was back at the pitch.

And somehow he was not surprised, and now he watched, did nothing but that.

He watched the anguish on faces familiar and strange, weeping at his body lying pale on the ground. His father a wreck, his mother a statue, his girlfriend a storm, his friends distraught, his housemates a river, his house head in shock, his headmaster without the twinkle in his eyes for the first time that he could remember and the boy he was in love with, gone.

Cedric didn't think that you could panic after dying, but this clearly was that. He wanted to do something, but he could not, he wished someone else to notice Harry's absence, and thankfully the headmaster did, face giving away slightest bit of anger and comprehension all at once. And with two professors at his heels, the headmaster marched towards the school, and Cedric watched their retreating backs, wanting to go, but wanting to stay at the same time.

He watched his parents now, not a thing changed from moments before, just them now holding hands of his body and his head of house by their side. He watched Cho clinging to her friend wrecking in sobs, and watched his competitors with silent tears flowing, and guilt etched in one's face, and Cedric forgave. Watched his friends comforting each other, and watched the professors ushering the younger students back, with tears of them all falling nonstop. There was nothing but sorrow here, and pain for all and he didn't want to witness it, maybe he was weak, even after death. He didn't care, and he wanted to know, and then he was in a room filled with odd objects, and he saw Harry, still pale and gaunt.

He watched as truths were confessed, and watched Harry in danger again so soon. He watched as he was saved, and watched as more truths got revealed. He watched the man he trusted, who had fooled him, them, everyone, and thought him responsible for his life being gone.

He watched as Dumbledore took Harry to his office, and watched as what happened became known, and watched as a phoenix offered comfort, and watched as a dog became a man, an escaped convict became a loving godfather, and he was surprised.

He watched in the Hospital Wing as Mrs. Weasley took care of her seventh son, not by blood no, but definitely in heart, it looked, and watched Harry cry, his anguish strong, and didn’t want to see the hurt he had caused, and watched Madam Pomfrey soothe Harry’s pain, and give him some sleep, and felt thankful for magic for the sudden calm it gave, but resentful of it too, because magic was what his body had felt too when it had breathed last.

He watched the gathered in grief varied, and left them alone, because this was not his to see, though he had seen more of what was not his to see after death than in life, their grief was what he didn’t want to.

He watched his parents then, composed somewhat but broken all the same, and watched Cho, wanting to wipe those tears and offer comfort, and unable to help because dead meant gone.

And still he couldn’t bear it all, so he left them and wandered, and wandered for long.

There was no purpose of his left in this world, he was dead and people he loved and cared for, who loved him and cared for him, all were hurt and broken and traumatized. He couldn’t help them no matter how much he wished to, he couldn’t bear their hurt, because that hurt him still somehow.

Cedric watched as the night fell on the world that lived, and watched Cho one last time, asleep huddled with Marietta in a bed, tear tracks visible still, peaceful for now, but he knew that won’t last.

He wanted to watch his parents, peaceful too, if not happy, but they stayed awake, watching his body, and he couldn’t look at them broken, and he didn’t want to stay for long.

Cedric watched Harry then, still mesmerized, and too close to touch, to kiss, if he had his body then, he might've, watched for the last time too, and last of all, watched with so much longing still that his heart would've hurt, if he had it now.

Harry looked peaceful in sleep as well, and with a last look Cedric wished him happy, and wished him love, and wished him life, and then from the mortal world forever, Cedric was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Gifting this to thatsarockfact55, because without intending it too, this gave some very strong Cedric/Harry/Cho vibes. And I know, this is not the fic I promised, but maybe a consolation for it? If that never comes to fruition, sorry. :/


End file.
